VII
Seacombe,
November.
1
Whilst the train was drawing up at the platform, I noticed the people moving and looking downwards as if dogs were running wild amongst them. Then I saw two whitish heads bobbing about in the crowd. It was Jimmy and another boy come to meet me.
We gave the luggage to the busman, and walked on down.
"Tommy's gone tu Plymouth."
"What for?"
"They'm going to cut his eyes out an' gie 'en spectacles."
"When did he go?"
A rather sulky silence....